


The Grand Ruining of Yuri Plisetsky

by phichithamsters



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Background Victuuri - Freeform, M/M, Mean Girl Yura, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of drugs, Multimedia, Somewhat of a slowburn, Strangers to Lovers, Underage Drinking, background milasara, high school shenanigans, lots of bad decisions like driving after drinking, minor leoji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phichithamsters/pseuds/phichithamsters
Summary: “Do you— do you even know who I am?” Yuri stutters, feeling his cool slipping away from him faster than Otabek is.“Not really. That’s kinda the point,” Otabek says, and then gets up from the table. “Thanks for sitting with me. See you in pre-cal.”And then he leaves.When new kid Otabek Altin moves to town, Yuri Plisetsky gets more than he bargained for when he tries to take him down.
Relationships: Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 25
Kudos: 68





	The Grand Ruining of Yuri Plisetsky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! The "mean girl yura" fic I've been talking about for months now is finally here! Thanks to everyone who indulged me in this idea and encouraged me to write this fic. I've really had so much fun writing it. Speaking of, thank you to twitter users @syubsubble, @SueMaryRakocy, and @jahgyong for the Russian trio groupchat names!
> 
> Before you start, please read the tags! These characters are all high school-aged, so there are allusions to and explicit situations in which the characters are drinking, doing drugs, and engaging in ~sexual activity~ (although the latter is only minor references, nothing explicit). As a disclaimer, these characters are not meant to be the perfect depictions of high school students— they are flawed, messy, and a lot of their experiences reflect ones that are similar to my own!
> 
> Finally, I would like to shoutout [Molly](https://twitter.com/chewiedot) for the art she made for this fic! She made my mean girl yura (and company) dream come to life. You can see it at the end of this fic!
> 
> EDIT: If you are using a screen-reader and/or need alternate text for the images, please either leave a comment or DM me on twitter and I can figure out the best way to provide those for you!

Yuri Plisetsky is the most popular boy at Bielmann High School. 

The fact that he’s only a freshman doesn’t make a difference— even at 5’4” and 15 years old, Yuri rules the school. It helps that his two best friends, Mila and Victor, are both seniors, but if Mila, Victor, and Yuri are the Plastics, Yuri is Regina George. 

Growing up in a small town meant that Yuri established his dominance early. He started by dazzling all of the teachers, coming into kindergarten having already learned and practiced his ABC’s. From there, it was pretty easy— Yuri was the perfect teacher’s pet, and he could get away with anything. 

His reputation followed him through elementary school and middle school, and Yuri won award after award for perfect attendance, impeccable grades, stellar citizenship. He barely cared about the accolades, only the status that came with them. Students and teachers alike talked about him before he even entered the classroom, and with one famous Yuri Plisetsky smile, they were charmed. He had them in the palm of his hand. 

Yuri’s parents didn’t live in the states, so he lived with his grandfather. The best piece of advice his grandfather gave him was that he would never get what he wanted without a fight. So Yuri learned how to fight well, and he learned how to fight smart. 

Mila and Victor had come up the ranks before him, but being the only first generation Russian immigrants in town, their families were close. Like, celebrate every major holiday together close; like, our kids babysit your kids close. It didn’t matter the three year age gap between them, they became fast friends in diapers and their unbreakable bond never wavered as they grew up. 

His model good looks, intelligence, and general charm help, but it’s Yuri’s personality that has been the cornerstone of his reputation all of these years. He’s strong, fierce, and most importantly, he takes no shit. He knows how to make any boy or girl fall in love with him in just twenty minutes, and he can break their heart in another ten. 

Yuri Plisetsky is used to getting whatever he wants. But when things don’t come to him immediately? That’s when Yuri fights for them. 

—

It starts in math class, when a boy that Yuri doesn’t recognize walks into the classroom and sits down in the desk next to Yuri’s regular seat. Yuri’s sitting on top of his desk, talking to his pre-calc friend, Sara, when he enters.

Yuri doesn’t really pay him any mind until he hears the telltale squeak of leather, and he sneaks a glance to see that the boy is wearing a _leather jacket_. 

Biellmann High School is like any other high school, in regards to the unspoken rules that every high schooler lived their lives by. There aren’t many of them, but they are pretty specific: First, don’t walk slowly in the hallways. Second, don’t make eye contact with the honor roll students. Third, don’t wear anything that is out of style, and a leather jacket is _definitely_ out of style. 

Yuri turns back to Sara, grinning wildly, and pulls out his phone. She catches his drift and does the same.

Sara snickers at her phone and taps back a reply. 

Yuri laughs loudly, garnering a few eyes from the other students filtering slowly into the classroom. By now, they’ve caught on to the joke— Yuri and Sara are most definitely talking shit about someone, and maybe if the other students are lucky, one of them will be included in the joke later. But for now, they all are praying they are not the subject of conversation. 

The bell rings, and the morning announcements drone on, and the boy in the leather jacket is quickly forgotten as Yuri makes his way through the school day. Instead, he spends most of the morning trying to fan the flames about Victor and his foreign exchange student _lover_ , who he was caught making out with in the bathroom in the science wing earlier in the week.

“I’m a changed man! I’m in love!” Victor says at lunch that afternoon, over the wilted greens he insisted on calling a salad. “I care not for the everyday trials of men anymore.”

“You sound like Shakespeare, and I mean that in a bad way,” Yuri snaps, stabbing into his own sad-looking salad (because even though it’s pretty unappetizing, it’s still the best thing the school serves). “Besides, he's only here for the semester.”

“I know,” Victor says. “That’s why I’m not going to college anymore. I’m going to go to Japan with Yuuri Katsuki to _marry him_.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, because this is not the first time that Victor has gotten dreamy-eyed over a one-semester foreign exchange student. When Chris left, it nearly broke his heart, and he slept with like, four underclassmen to try to get over him. It was awful. 

Thankfully, Mila changes the subject before Victor can continue waxing poetic. “Did you guys hear about the new guy?” she asks, scrolling through her phone. “Apparently, he's from Eastern Europe.” 

Yuri snorts. “I bet he’s a FOB.”

“Apparently he’s cool!” Mila says. “Hold on. Sara sent me his Instagram.”

She holds out her phone, and Yuri takes it, scrolling through the feed. The pictures are sparse and barely any show his face, not even his profile picture, which makes Yuri kind of suspect that he’s a serial killer, that is, until he finds an old picture from two years before. Yuri recognizes the jacket he’s wearing and his hair cut, and _oh my god_ , it’s the leather jacket guy. 

Yuri didn’t get a good look at him before, but now that his face is in full view (even if it’s a terribly filtered selfie), Yuri can see the appeal. He’s cool in a kind of “I don’t care about being cool” way, like he could give less of a fuck about labels or statuses or what is trending at the moment. 

“I know him,” Yuri says, suddenly, cause he thinks this little piece of trivia might give him the upperhand. 

“OMG, you do?” Mila says, and _god_ , Yuri has talked to her about saying “OMG” out loud. “He’s kinda cute, isn’t he? I’d totally go for it, but I think he’s a sophomore.”

“I mean, I kinda see it,” Yuri says cooly, while Victor makes grabby hands at the phone and says, “Let me see!”

Mila hands her phone over and turns her attention back to Yuri. “So, are you gonna talk to him?” she asks, eyes sparkling. 

Yuri levels her a look. “Maybe.”

“You should ask him to hang out with us! We can bond over like, being European.”

“All white people do that, Mila,” Yuri shoots back. “But he looks like a challenge. It might be fun.”

“I like his jacket,” Victor says, holding up the old selfie for them to see. 

“Of course you do,” Yuri says. He rolls his eyes.

Mila has already moved on and is scrolling twitter. She gasps, getting the table’s attention.

“What?” 

“The Biellmann Polls Twitter put me against Sara for hottest in school,” Mila says, sounding scandalized. “But like, vote for me, though.”

“Aren’t you guys, like, talking or something?” Yuri asks, opening the Biellmann Polls account and immediately selecting Mila. She’s currently winning by 13%. 

“It’s complicated,” she says. “Did you vote for me?”

“Yep!” Victor chirps.

“I’m sure Sara will understand,” Yuri grumbles, scrolling down the page. “Anyways, who are we voting for to win in a fight: Mickey or Emil?”

—

The next morning, Yuri tries to talk to the new kid. Mila was right, he is totally attractive, with alluring dark eyes and a jaw that could cut glass. Not that Yuri will ever really admit that, though, because admitting that you _liked_ someone in high school was all the ammunition people needed to ruin you. 

It was cool to like someone but only if they liked you back, otherwise, it was pathetic. So instead of admitting that he finds the new guy cute, Yuri decides he’s going to make Otabek fall in love with him. 

Yuri arrives earlier than usual to class, suspecting that this Otabek character would be timely but in a cool way, arriving before the second warning bell but not earlier than the first. Yuri usually arrives at the final bell, of course, and talks straight through morning announcements. 

His suspicions are confirmed when Otabek walks in a few minutes past the first bell with a bike helmet tucked under his arm. Yuri makes a face for a second, because no one rides a bike any more, and the new kid has most definitely been transported from the 1980s directly into Biellmann High in 2016, but then he’s yanked from his thoughts by Otabek walking over to where Yuri’s sitting, where he kind of stops and stares at Yuri. 

Which was Yuri’s plan all along, cause he planted his cute little butt on the desk that Otabek had sat in yesterday. 

“Hey,” Yuri says, looking up at Otabek through his lashes. He bats them a few times, for good measure. 

Otabek blinks slowly, once, like he’s not quite used to someone as beautiful as Yuri talking to him, which totally makes sense—

“Are there assigned seats?” Otabek asks. 

Yuri pauses. “Not really,” he says, turning on the desk so he’s facing Otabek squarely. “We just like, sit wherever we want.” He twists a piece of hair between his fingers as he does it, which is just one step down from actually twirling his hair, but still conveys the same message. 

“Okay.”

And with that, Otabek turns around and heads to the back of the classroom. He takes a seat in the back row and takes out his phone. 

Yuri is… confused? Surprised? Offended? No one has reacted to him that way before. Usually, people are excited to talk to him, or at least a little scared of what Yuri could do to them. For instance, Yuri made Seung Gil the most eligible bachelor for the eighth grade spring dance when he put out a few good words for him, and in 6th grade JJ had totally lied about going to second base with Isabella (who was absolutely out of his league), and Yuri set the record straight for the whole school, and no girls wanted to hang out with him that summer. 

Really, Yuri is _powerful_. People don’t just _walk away_ from him. 

At that moment, the final bell rings and Sara walks in, looking a little annoyed, because Yuri didn’t walk with her to class, which is definitely his bad for forgetting to tell her. When she sees him already in class though, she seems confused but slightly placated, probably because even though Yuri ditched her, at least he didn’t replace her. 

Yuri definitely expects some questions, though. Sara sets her tote down as she takes a seat at the desk next to Yuri. “You’re early.”

Yuri flips his hair, unbothered. “Mila couldn’t give me a ride today. My grandpa took me,” he says. Sara seems placated, and opens her phone to reapply her lip gloss. 

It wasn’t a lie— Yuri had been driven by his grandfather. But he told his grandfather he needed to get to school early for a group project, and he told Mila and Victor that he wasn’t riding with them because his grandpa needed to run errands with him before school, and he told none of them that he was trying to position himself just right to charm the pants off of a boy he wasn’t even really interested in, and who seemed to be immune to Yuri’s charms. 

For now, at least. 

—

Yuri decides to try again at lunch, because he soon finds out that they share the same lunch block. Otabek is eating alone, off at one of the smaller tables near the bathroom. It’s kinda cool, but like, in a sad way. 

Mila and Victor are chatting about something trivial, and Yuri keeps sneaking glances at Otabek. He can’t make out what he’s eating, but he seems to have something packed that he’s spooning out of a thermos. Another strike for Mr. New Guy. No one _brings lunch_ in high school. It probably has a note from his mom, wishing him a good day or something. Gross. 

“Yura, what the fuck are you looking at?” Mila asks, waving a hand in front of his face. Yuri blinks. He didn’t realize he had been staring. 

“Our little Yurachka has a _crush!”_ Victor singsongs, pointing his spoon in the direction of Otabek’s table. Mila follows it and her eyebrows raise in understanding. 

“Shut up, old man,” Yuri growls. “It’s not a _crush;_ if anything, he likes me. He tried to talk to me in math today. So stupid.”

“He _is_ cute!! That’s what I said yesterday!” Mila claps her hands excitedly. 

“That’s not even why I’m talking to him!” Yuri says, exasperated. “You guys are the fucking worst. It’s just for _fun_ , dumbasses. He’s really not that cute.”

“Sure sounds like a lot of excuses…” Victor whispers, just loud enough so Yuri can hear him. 

Yuri gives him the finger. “Keep that up and I’m gonna tell Katsuki you have crabs.”

With that, Yuri storms away from the table to Mila’s “Ew, Yura, what the fuck!” and Victor’s horrified, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Yuri throws away his salad and stalks over to Otabek Altin’s table, because now’s as good a time as any and a lot of the students are watching him. Good. 

Let them watch; Yuri’s about to put on a show.

He drops his backpack on the table and sits down loudly. Otabek looks up from his thermos and regards Yuri for a moment. 

“Hi,” he says, slowly, looking a little confused. 

“What, can’t I sit here?” Yuri pouts. “There are no assigned seats in the cafeteria.”

Otabek’s brow crinkles a little in confusion, and so Yuri clarifies, “It was a _joke_ . Like, from earlier. In math.” Yuri suppresses the urge to roll his eyes cause he’s trying to be _charming._

“Oh, that’s how I know you,” Otabek says, his eyes lighting up. “You’re in my pre-cal class.”

Yuri wants to correct him because first, Otabek is in _his_ pre-calc class, and second, who the hell says pre-cal? It just rubs him the wrong way. 

Otabek sips another spoonful of his soup, and Yuri takes a second to recalibrate. It seems like Otabek is either immune to his charms or can't understand them— maybe Yuri has to be more direct. Otabek doesn’t _sound_ like he has an accent, but maybe he isn’t quite versed in the subtle cultural cues that Yuri has been using to flirt. 

That’s fine. Yuri is nothing if not adaptable. 

“Look, I know you think I’m cute,” Yuri says, because everyone finds him attractive. “If you want to go out with me, you totally could. And you’d be really popular too.”

Yuri has given Otabek an offer he can’t refuse. He learns back with a smirk, waiting for Otabek’s answer. 

Otabek is frozen with his spoon raised halfway to this lips, probably because he’s so stunned someone like Yuri would even give him the time of day, let alone offer to date him, but then he comes back to life and lifts the spoon the rest of the way, takes a sip, and looks up at Yuri again. 

“No thank you,” he says. 

Yuri’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “Um— what? Excuse me?”

Otabek begins to pack up his lunch, returning the thermos to a lunchbox that looks almost too childish to belong to a sophomore in high school, and wipes his spoon with a napkin. “Sorry, I just don’t know you very well,” he says. 

“Do you— do you even know who I _am?”_ Yuri stutters, feeling his cool slipping away from him faster than Otabek is. 

“Not really. That’s kinda the point,” Otabek says, and then gets up from the table. “Thanks for sitting with me. See you in pre-cal.”

And then he _leaves._

In all of his life, Yuri has never had anyone leave _him._ He is always the leaver, the one to get up first, to leave people behind, to have them stumble after him in a blind panic for fear of losing him. Never has _he_ been the one left in the dust. 

_What the fuck._ Yuri can almost feel the entire student body looking at him, probably all self-righteous and entertained, watching Yuri be humiliated like that. He stands up quickly and storms back to his table where Mila and Victor are sitting. One look at them and he knows they saw the whole thing go down. Fucking wonderful. 

“Um… What was that?” Mila asks, a little taken aback, a little amused. 

Yuri glares at her. “Nothing. Anyways, we’re leaving,” he snaps, and exits the lunchroom. Mila and Victor scramble to dump their remaining salad, and they follow him out of the cafeteria. 

—

Now that Otabek Altin has humiliated him in front of the whole school, Yuri has decided he’s going to take him down, naturally.

Otabek will no longer eat alone, no, he will be kicked so far down the social ladder that he won’t be able to bear eating in the lunchroom— he’ll be banished to an empty classroom. He won’t ever be able to ride the bus again, he’ll have to ride his stupid little bicycle around town like a twelve year old, even in the winter. 

Yuri is going to _ruin_ him. 

“He’s the worst,” he tells Mila that afternoon, on FaceTime. After giving her a semi-truthful recap of what happened (because Yuri is still singed from the earlier burn), he was catching her up on his plan that he’d brainstormed during the rest of his classes when he should have been taking notes. “Oh and by the way, can you send me your old APUSH notes for the financial crash of 1800? I literally didn’t listen at all.”

He flips the FaceTime camera to show Mila his plan, outlined in stages with a 5 star ranking scale of how much each idea would affect Otabek’s social standing— 5 being the best. 

Mila puts the phone down so she can dig for her old notes. “You wrote this down in pencil? I haven’t seen you this serious since the Victor/Chris debacle of 2013.” 

“I’m deadly serious, Mila. He doesn’t know who the fuck he messed with,” Yuri says. 

“I believe you!” she says. “He sounds like the _worst.”_

Yuri smiles a little, but it’s only to himself, since Mila is looking for her notes. That was one thing he loved about Victor and Mila— no matter how much they bickered, at the end of the day they had each other’s backs. If one of them had a grudge, the other two were ready to fight, no questions asked. 

Mila groans. “I can’t find them!” she says. “I might’ve given them to Sara.”

“Thanks for nothing. Does Victor have his still?”

“Dunno,” Mila says. 

“Where is he anyways?” Yuri asks. “This bitch hasn’t answered my texts all afternoon.”

“I think he’s studying with _Yuuri_ ,” Mila says “Yuuri” like Victor does, with that annoying little lilt in the middle that stretches out the “u” sound. 

“I hate sharing a name with him,” Yuri says. “Vitya’s the worst, honestly.”

“The _worst_ ,” Mila agrees. 

—

Yuri wouldn’t consider himself evil. He is, however, somewhat of an evil genius. 

In the span of a few hours ignoring two essays and a problem set, Yuri plans out no less than 15 specific scenarios in which he can ruin Otabek’s life, designed to the minute detail: who will be involved, the precise location, timetables, his exit, the follow-up, and of course, the social media fall out. While Yuri probably won’t follow the plans to the letter, it gives him a sadistic little high to have it all planned out— all of Otabek’s demise laid out on an extensive Google Doc he has, of course, shared with Mila and Victor. 

—

They say the best laid plans often go awry, but the best laid plans have never met _Yuri Plisetsky._

He starts off The Grand Ruining of Otabek Altin (that’s what Yuri entitled his scheme, because he’s not a savage and he doesn’t leave docs untitled) with a rumor. 

The best way to spread a rumor, Yuri has learned, is to tell the story right before the person walks in the room. It’s like, if people are talking shit about another person, and then that person suddenly appears, it’s almost like the person is admitting their guilt. And then, even better, that person starts to feel everyone’s eyes on them as the rest of the group stops talking, and the humiliation begins.

Luckily, Yuri has first period with Otabek Altin, and he hitched another early ride with his grandfather. He arranges to meet Sara so that they can walk to class together, early enough for the classroom door to not even be unlocked. When they arrive at the room, taking their place along the hallway with the other students, Yuri begins to execute his plan. 

“Hey Sara,” he says, a little loudly, getting the attention of some of the surrounding students with his tone, which promises only the hottest gossip. “You know the new guy? The one with the leather jacket?”

Sara touches her finger to her mouth like a goddamn anime character. “Yeah, he’s in this class, right? Otabek or something?”

“That’s the one,” Yuri nods. “I heard the craziest thing about him yesterday, but like, honestly, I shouldn’t even be talking about it, like it’s really not even my secret to tell…”

“Oh my god, Yuri! You can’t just _say_ that and then not tell me!” Sara exclaims, because she’s a messy bitch who lives for drama. 

“Ok, ok, I guess I can tell you,” Yuri says, biting his lip and looking around conspiratorially, as if his classmates aren’t all listening in. 

He leans in closer to Sara. “So, I heard that Otabek is a total asshole. Like, I heard he was dating like, four girls at the same time at his old school. They all found out and he was totally not sorry about it.”

Sara’s mouth drops open. “Him? Oh my god, I totally wouldn’t have expected. That’s so gross.”

“Right? You _totally_ wouldn’t expect it.” Yuri lowers his voice. “I also heard he has an STD. Like, a real one, not one of those lame ones like HPV.”

“Ew. That’s actually disgusting,” Sara says. “And I thought he was cute.” 

“It’s so tragic,” Yuri says, trying to mirror her disappointment. “But like, promise me, Sara, you can’t tell _anyone_. I just heard it from someone at his old school. I don’t even know if it’s true.”

Sara nods, and she’s so serious that Yuri would almost believe her if he hadn’t been using her to plant rumors for almost three years now. 

“My lips are like, so sealed.” To prove her point, she swipes on some lipgloss and smacks her lips. 

“You’re the best, Sara,” Yuri says with a wink, just in time for Otabek to turn the corner, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder. Everyone stares at him for a moment, just long enough for him to feel it, and then turn back to their conversations. 

Otabek takes his place along the wall with the rest of them, and Yuri watches the other students begin to frantically type on their phones, no doubt spreading his new rumor like wildfire. 

Yuri can almost feel the messages in the air, the tweets, the status updates, all a shining web, carrying his plan to fruition. 

Yuri is about to write this one off as a victory, when someone does something unexpected. JJ, the annoyingly friendly lacrosse player, pushes away from the wall and walks over to Otabek. Yuri watches with piqued interest as JJ starts talking to Otabek as if they’re already friends. 

“Yo, Beks—“ (what a gross nickname) “— I just heard the craziest thing,” JJ says, placing on hand on the wall like the straightest kabedon in the world. 

“What’s up?” Otabek asks, pocketing his phone to give JJ his full attention, which is weird. 

“Dude, I heard you were a total chick magnet back at your old school,” JJ says, and Yuri rolls his eyes, because who uses phrases like “chick magnet” anymore. Him and Otabek are like old, washed up soulmates in the way that they speak and dress and _act._

Otabek looks confused. “You did?” he asks, and Yuri tries to hide his smile. Here it comes— Otabek will try to deny, deny, deny, but ultimately, in his refutation, he will unintentionally prove the rumor true. 

“Um, I don’t know where you heard that,” Otabek says, slowly, and _yes, yes, yes_ , finally, this is it— “Cause I’m definitely into guys. I’ve never dated girls.”

Fuck. 

Sara, overhearing this conversation, whips around to face Yuri, smacking him with the tail of her long brown ponytail. 

“Wait, what? I thought you said he fucked girls!” she whispers accusingly. 

“Sexuality is a spectrum, Sara. God!” Yuri says through gritted teeth. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

And then he storms away. 

Kicking a stall door open and frantically typing out a vague, pissy subtweet, Yuri tries to recalibrate. He takes a few breaths, and then stares at himself in the mirror, to help remind himself what a bad bitch he is. 

He’s _fine_.

So this plan backfired— whatever. Yuri has like, 30 other ideas and plenty of fucking time to accomplish them all. _Relax,_ he tells himself, and his shoulders drop. _Get back up, Yuri. You have a life to ruin._

Yuri smiles at himself in the mirror like a maniac.

—

Yuri tries again in third period, and then the next day, and then the day after that. 

First he starts another rumor, that Otabek has run into trouble with the law— did you know he has a _restraining order_ filed against him?— but it doesn't stick, because, apparently, people don’t think he’s the _type_. 

Then he attempts the silent treatment, by enlisting a few people in his class to ignore Otabek. By the end of the second day, half of the school has heard some telephone-warped version of why Otabek Altin needs to be socially excluded, but he doesn’t seem to even notice. He keeps to himself, so the fact that people are ignoring him totally blows over his head. 

Yuri glares at him in class, talks shit behind his back constantly, subtweets about him, and even gossips about him while he’s in the same room. Each of Yuri’s plans are flawlessly executed, like the model student Yuri is, and each of them should take Otabek down a peg in social standings. By the end of Yuri’s plans, Otabek should have been a social fucking pariah. 

But nothing seems to faze Otabek Altin, and it’s getting really fucking annoying. Yuri is starting to lose credibility. 

—

Okay, so maybe his first draft of plans doesn’t go as he intends. But just because Otabek Altin can’t be taken down by traditional means doesn’t mean that he’s invincible. 

Yuri says this much over lunch, glaring in Otabek’s general direction as he stabs at his salad. 

“This is why background research is important, Yurachka,” Victor says, waving his plastic fork like he’s giving a lecture. 

“Don’t patronize me,” Yuri says. “Whatever. This isn’t the end. I have more ideas.”

“You’re getting crazy eyes,” Mila says. 

Yuri turns to face her, snarling. “Do these eyes look crazy to you?!” 

But he says it a little too loudly, and half of the cafeteria turns to glance at their table. Including Otabek, who does the most infuriating thing— when he recognizes Yuri and sees him staring, Otabek gives a little wave. 

_What the actual fuck._

Yuri groans and stands up from the table. “Can we eat somewhere else today?” 

Mila and Victor share a look and then Mila shrugs. “Sure,” she says. “But only if you dial it back a little. Seriously, Yura: crazy eyes.”

At this point, Yuri has two options— take his friend’s well-meaning but ridiculous advice to essentially just like, _calm down_ , or walk away, ignore them, and risk losing his morning rides for a week or so. He considers taking the second, but so many of his plans depend on Mila and Victor’s cooperation, and more importantly, Mila’s car. 

Yuri huffs and sits down again, loudly banging his tray back onto the table. “Fine,” he says. “I will take advice from senior citizens.”

Mila pinches his cheek and calls him a baby in Russian, which Yuri guesses he deserves, and Victor says, “Trust us, I promise things will work out better if you just ignore him for a while.”

Yuri will _not_ be ignoring Otabek, but he will try to be a little more chill in front of his friends, who may have a point (but Yuri would never say that to their faces because their heads would get too damn big).

“Fine,” he huffs. “Let’s talk about something else, like… the football game. Speaking of, are we getting fucked up?”

Mila and Victor both grin at him, and Yuri already knows this is going to be good.

—

Friday rolls around quickly, and the failed rumors are forgotten as quickly as any high school drama. The next trend is started, the next fights are fought, and the school moves on. 

Yuri and Victor walk to Mila’s house that evening, donning school spirit in various forms of beads, sunglasses, and cut-up clothing. 

Yuri’s sporting the t-shirt from their student section, the bottom half cut into strips to give the effect of a crop top. He also has denim shorts that are short enough to show the pockets, and a pair of red converse. He’ll hardly be the sluttiest one at the game, though, especially since he knows that Victor doesn’t have a shirt on underneath his red student section hoodie. 

Mila’s mother greets them at the door, and they take the steps two at a time to Mila’s room. She’s already getting ready, dancing around to old pop music and applying sparkling lip gloss. 

“Took you long enough,” she says when they enter the room. She doesn’t take her eyes off of the mirror.

“I’m already dressed,” Yuri counters. He finds Mila’s bottle of flavored vodka on her desk and takes a sip, almost gagging at the sanitizer aftertaste. 

“Same!” Victor says, and then flings off of his sweatshirt to reveal his chest is painted with a large “B.”

“What the fuck,” Yuri asks. 

“Senior night!” Victor says, twirling to reveal another letter on the back. “We’re gonna spell out _GO BOBCATS_ , and then turn around to spell out _CLASS of 2016!_ ”

“That sounds stupid, but ok,” Yuri says. He takes it upon himself to find Mila’s water bottle and fill it up with the nasty cheap vodka, because to survive any high school football game, they’re gonna need to be a little drunk. 

Mila scoffs. “You wouldn't get it Yura; you’re not a _senior.”_

“Oh my god you’re doing it too, aren't you?”

Mila lifts up her t-shirt to show a tiny “of” painted in cursive on her stomach, surrounded in glitter. “I’m the “of!”

Yuri flops back on Mila’s bed. Sometimes, he doesn’t know why he has the friends he does, or why he keeps them around. 

“Stop bitching, Yura!” Mila says, because she can read Yuri’s mind. She smacks her lips together to even out the gloss, and then picks up a set of face paints from her desk. “Ok, so what’s the look tonight, eye stripes or polka dots?”

—

Three shots and half an hour of arguing later, Yuri chooses polka dots in an “S” shape around his eyes, which Mila applies carefully with one finger, and 15 minutes later they’re on the way to the game.

It takes them a second to find a spot, because they live in a pathetic town where the best Friday night entertainment for everyone and their mother is attending a shitty high school football game, but eventually they park and walk over to the ticket counter. 

Mila and Victor flash their senior IDs, and the attendant waves them forward from her small box. 

“ID?” she asks. Yuri recognizes her as one of the football moms, and she smiles when she recognizes Yuri. 

“Oh, hey, Yuri! How’s your grandfather?”

Yuri plasters on his cheesiest, most people-pleasing smile, and says, “He’s doing just fine. Oh!” He reaches into his pocket, surprised. “Oh damn, I think I left my tickets at home.”

He shakes his head demurely, and the football mom gives him a sympathetic look, her thin lips pressed together into a frown. 

“Do you mind if I scoot by for a second and ask my friends over there to give me a ride home?” he asks, pointing to Mila and Victor, who are already halfway up the stairs to the stadium. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honey. Just go catch up to your friends! Enjoy the game!”

Yuri thanks her with a small wave and catches up to Mila and Victor. 

“I thought you didn't buy a ticket?” Victor asks. 

“I didn’t,” Yuri says, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

They make it up to the stadium, where most of the students are either filling the students’ section, milling about the marching band, or already walking the track that surrounds the football field. 

Yuri sees JJ walking on the track with some girl he doesn’t recognize. She laughs at something he says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. _Gross._

Mila and Victor peel off to go join their senior class, and Yuri finds Sara sitting in the stands with someone he can’t recognize from below them. He climbs the steps to find Sara’s row, and then realizes—

—she’s sitting with Yuuri Katsuki. 

“Yuri! You look so cute!” she says, standing up to hug him as he approaches. She looks cute too, wearing a black tracksuit with a cropped hoodie. Yuri gives her a look, though, to which she responds, “This is Yuuri! You have the same name, isn’t that such a coincidence?”

Yuri regards the other Yuuri but doesn’t say anything. The other Yuuri gulps under Yuri’s glare. 

Good. 

Sara doesn’t seem to sense anything. “This is Yuuri’s first football game!” she says, sitting down and tugging on Yuuri’s arm. “Isn’t that so cute?”

“Adorable,” Yuri grumbles, sitting down next to her. 

“Uh, Victor invited me, actually,” Yuuri says, with a timid little smile. 

Yuri scoffs. “I don’t know why he did that,” he says. “He’s busy tonight.”

Yuri points to the energetic seniors lining up by the football field. 

“That’s ok, actually,” Yuuri says. “He said we’d hang out afterwards.”

Yuuri gives a little wave when he says that, and to Yuri’s disgust, Victor picks them out of the crowd and blows kisses back. 

Katsuki turns a bright red and hides his face. Yuri rolls his eyes. 

He’s about to find somewhere else to sit, when he spots Otabek Altin walk into the small stadium alone, hands in his jacket pocket. Yuri watches him scan the stands for a moment, and when it looks like he’s about to give up, he sees their group, smiles, and he starts to walk over. 

Yuri makes a face, cause there’s no way he’s coming over her because he recognized Yuri, but then he realizes that it’s not him, it’s the other Yuuri that he’s waving at. 

God, they know each other? That’s probably Yuri’s worst nightmare. 

Otabek takes the stairs two at a time to join them, climbing over the silver benches behind them to take a seat next to the other Yuuri. 

Sara’s mouth drops and she like, judges Yuri in a not so subtle way. Yuri glares at her and prays she understands that his eyebrows read, _I swear to god, Sara, drop it._

“Hi, Yuuri. Sara. Yuri,” Otabek addresses each of them, and even though Yuri hates him, he takes offense at being mentioned last. 

Before Yuri can make the bitchy comment that’s on the edge of his tongue, Yuuri speaks up. “Otabek! It’s nice to see you here.”

Otabek nods. “JJ told me it was senior night, and that I should come.”

“Senior night is really not that big of a deal,” Yuri mutters, but Otabek catches it. 

“Why not?”

Yuri rolls his eyes. He does not have time to explain the idiosyncrasies of American high school traditions to this man, _whom he hates._

“I’m getting a drink,” Yuri says suddenly, standing up. He hands Sara the vodka-filled water bottle he’d snuck in. “Don’t start without me.”

She winks at him and takes a drink before Yuri exits their row. 

Yuri walks over to concessions, gets a freshman named Minami to pay for his soda (Yuri does his homework for him, sometimes), and makes it back to his seat before the game starts. 

Back in his seat, Yuri takes a swig of Pepsi, and then pours some of the vodka into the bottle. He offers the rest to Yuuri, mostly as a joke. 

Yuuri looks at the bottle like Yuri is offering him black tar heroin. Yuri laughs a little, and is about to rescind his offer when the other Yuuri takes the bottle from his hand and downs a huge drink, probably a shot worth. 

Yuri’s like, half-disgusted, half-impressed when the other Yuuri takes another long swallow and breaks off the bottle with a gasp. 

“Damn, Katsuki!” Sara yells. Yuuri’s glasses are slightly askew so he straightens them a bit, and hands the bottle back to Yuri with a little giggle. 

Yuri holds out the bottle once more. “You want some?” he asks, trying to address Otabek as blandly as possible. 

Otabek reacts exactly as he hopes. “No thanks. I don’t drink,” he says. 

“Okaaaayy…” he says slowly, sharing a look with Sara, who is trying to hide a laugh. “Weird, but whatever.”

“—Should loosen up,” Yuuri says, suddenly, breaking into a wide smile and throwing his arm around Otabek, which clearly is making him uncomfortable. “C’mon, Beka, s’American _football.”_

There’s no way the other Yuuri is drunk already. Yuri scoffs. “Yeah, _Beka_ ,” he teases, accenting his awful nickname. 

Sara grabs the bottle, takes a swig, and then holds out the open bottle in front of Otabek (over Yuuri, who looks totally fine with it). “Don’t be boring. C’mon.”

Sara says it with a smile, but at that moment, Yuri loves her more than he ever has in his life. Not only does peer pressure work every time, but it’s a fucking bitch. 

And there’s no way Otabek will reject an offer from Sara— that would be as good as social suicide. 

Like he said, he’s _never loved her more._

But then, Otabek pushes the bottle away, more firmly this time, and says, “No thanks,” again. 

Sara looks downright offended, and despite himself, Yuri actually laughs in disbelief. Altin has balls, that’s for sure. 

Sara huffs and takes out her phone, opening up snapchat and sending some pictures to smooth over the moment. Yuri just stares at Otabek, but he doesn’t say anything more. 

And the worst part is, he doesn’t seem fazed by it _at all._ Moments later, the band marches out onto the field, and Otabek is clapping politely with the rest of the parents. 

He’s so insanely uncool it’s making Yuri cringe. 

The rest of the night goes similarly— a lot of texting between Yuri and Sara, Otabek being silent, and the other Yuuri getting progressively drunker as the night goes on. At one point, when the seniors come out to reveal their body art, Yuuri leaps out of his seat and shouts something slurred in Japanese at Victor who blushes a little and waves back happily in return. 

Yuri doesn’t speak a lick of Japanese, but it sure _sounds_ like a catcall.

Yuri is bored out of his mind. 

Instead of watching the games, he watches the stands— who is leaving with whom, which groups of students go under the bleachers (and which don’t come back out), and most importantly, who’s walking the track. His little friend Minami seems to be walking around with another small brown-haired boy, but the other boy keeps waving to a football player on the field (number 11, Iglesia or something), which must suck for Minami. 

At one point, Sara abandons him to go make out with Mila for a bit, so Yuri joins Victor in the senior section, until Victor starts leading cheers, and Yuri is forced to sulk back to his seat and sit miserably on his phone next to the other Yuuri and Otabek. 

Finally, thank god, the game wraps up, the Biellmann Bobcats having scored only 6 points to their opponent’s 34. But that is no matter, because the game is over, and that means Yuri finally gets to go get drunk with a bunch of seniors. 

On his way out, though, he spills some of his vodka soda directly onto Otabek’s hoodie, as an “accident.”

“Oops! My bad,” Yuri says, even though his smile tells a different story.

And annoyingly, frustratingly, absolutely ridiculously, Otabek Altin apologizes for “being in the way,” and _pats Yuri on the back_. 

Yuri cannot believe this man. 

—

Leaving the football game takes ages, since Mila and Victor have to say goodbye to every single person in their class, and by association, so does Yuri. 

He smiles without teeth and tells them he’ll see them all at JJ’s later, which makes him want to die cause he kind of hates the kid, but he has to admit that JJ does throw the best parties. 

Once they do get away, Mila drives them to Yuri’s house and parks the car in his driveway, and then the three of them walk to JJ’s house in the next neighborhood over. They take turns passing around the remaining vodka Yuri brought to the game, and by the time they reach JJ’s, Yuri is feeling nice and buzzed. 

The party is in full swing by the time they arrive, which is exactly as they’d planned. Sara greets them at the door and they shove their way into the house, through the throngs of kids already dancing and grinding in JJ’s living room. Three girls are already dancing on a sofa, one that Yuri himself has actually sat on before, in the daylight, while working on a group project. Now, with music pounding in his bones and the lights turned down so dim that Yuri can barely make out anyone’s faces, it’s like he's in a whole different world. 

They make their way into the kitchen where the liquor is kept, a cluster of shiny glass bottles on the kitchen counter with a few shot glasses and empty cups scattered around. They find JJ there, manning the “bar” (as he calls it), and he’s decent—or drunk— enough to pour them all shots, which they down quickly with a cheer and then a groan, once they realize it’s Fireball. 

“Dude, what the fuck,” Sara says, gagging slightly. 

“Fireball fucking sucks,” Mila groans. 

Yuri hates the taste, but he isn’t complaining. He has a relatively high tolerance for his size, since all of his family gatherings include drinking of some kind, and he knows enough manners never to complain about free alcohol. 

Even if it’s JJ. And even if it’s Fireball. 

Yuri uses his shot glass to pour himself a quick shot of rum, which he swallows quickly while the rest of his group is talking. 

“Tequila next?” JJ asks, holding up a lime and some decent-looking Jose Cuervo. 

Yuri is about to agree enthusiastically when JJ waves and shouts: “Hey, Beks! Come over here, we’re about to do tequila shots!”

God, is Otabek Altin following him? Yuri needs to be anywhere but _here._

Yuri groans loudly, and snags the closest bottle on the table before heading out of the kitchen. If he passes Otabek, he doesn’t notice— he keeps his head low and walks to the side of the room, near a hallway, and then tries to chug whatever he grabbed from the kitchen. 

Unfortunately, it’s about half a bottle of terrible pink wine, which probably some girl brought because she can’t stand the taste of real alcohol. But that also means it tastes like fucking juice, and he drowns it less than a minute. 

He sets the bottle down on the ground, by the wall (he’s not an animal) and then scans the room for who he’s going to hang out with next, since Mila, Victor, and Sara are all preoccupied with “Beks.”

Yuri literally frowns thinking about Otabek. He didn’t stick around to see if his friends did shots with him, but if they did, they’re fucking traitors. 

Yuri kicks off the wall and moves through the room, determined to find someone to talk to. There’s a group in a nearby room playing stack cup, which Yuri is like, really _really_ good at, so he waits till they’re finished and joins in on the next round. 

He‘s kicking everyone’s ass, until he accidentally misses a shot and his ball lands in the bitch cup. That absolutely sucks, cause he definitely saw that football player, Iglesia, pour in two shots of something before filling the cup up to the brim with light beer. 

Yuri rolls his eyes, and the people around him chant, “Bitch cup! Bitch cup! Bitch cup!”

He throws the cup back, drinking as fast as he can without thinking about it, and finishes the whole cup to the sound of rousing cheers. He just smiles and grabs his ball (a little wobbly now), and shouts, “Let’s keep fucking going!”

Eventually, the last stack lands on Minami’s little friend, Guang Hong, who is forced to drink the second bitch cup. But about 30 seconds in, he’s looking a little pale, and so Iglesia steps in to finish the rest. 

At that point, Yuri’s bored, definitively drunk, and he wants to _dance._

He ends up bumping into Mila and Victor, who scream loudly when they find each other, and they dance for a bit. Yuri’s pretty out of it, so he’s just kinda swaying with the beat and moving his hips, and he doesn’t even see Victor leave, or Mila. Eventually, he realizes he’s alone, so he sends them a few texts (it takes a few tries to get the message across), and then walks outside.

There are less people on JJ’s back porch, some paired off and making out on the patio furniture, but of course one of them is fucking Otabek Altin. 

Of course. Of fucking course. If Yuri had a list of people he did not want to see at this party, Otabek Altin would be _every single item on the goddamn list._

And honestly? It annoys Yuri, it really does. It pisses him off that Otabek goes around all day, not giving a shit what people think, acting like he’s above all the high school bullshit. 

Well, Yuri will show him. High school bullshit literally formed him, _has been_ forming Mila and Victor for years. Does Otabek think he can get to where they are by ignoring it all? He has another thing fucking coming for him. 

Yuri marches over to the outdoor couch Otabek is sitting down and plops down angrily next to him, ready to yell, but then Otabek turns to him, and his face changes and he even smiles a little. 

“Yuri! I heard you were here. I was looking for you,” he says, and then he notices Yuri’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, Yuri doesn’t remember why he sat down in the first place. He just crosses his arms and grumbles, “Nothing.”

“Have you had anything to drink?” Otabek asks. 

Yuri frowns. “Yeah. What about it?”

Otabek holds out his cup, which is full of what looks like soda (but Yuri assumes has at least some alcohol in it). “I was wondering if you want mine,” he says, and then adds, “I don’t drink.”

And then it hits Yuri, all of a sudden, and he’s not sure if this is why he sat down in the first place, but honest to god, he laughs in Otabek’s face. 

It starts out slow, and then it builds, and Yuri’s clutching his sides like it’s the funniest thing he’s thought of in ages. 

“Yuri?”

“God, how are you so… you?” Yuri asks, through another fit of laughter, this time with more disbelief than humor. “It’s like, what the _fuck_ , you know?”

Otabek looks concerned, or at least Yuri thinks he does. His eyebrows get kinda scrunchy in the middle, so Yuri acts on impulse, and he pokes them. 

And then he laughs again, this time at himself, cause that was really funny. 

Otabek rubs his own forehead. “You’re pretty drunk.”

Yuri snorts, and then takes Otabek’s cup and takes a _biiiigggg_ sip. “Yup.”

“You think you maybe wanna go easy on the alcohol?”

And then Yuri explodes. “God, what the fuck is your problem? How are you gonna tell _me_ what to do? I’m Yuri fucking Plisetsky. Where do you get off?”

“I’m… sorry?”

What is this boy not getting? “You’re just so… god! It’s like, you don’t even care what anyone thinks. It’s so, like, annoying. And frustrating,” Yuri half talks, half yells, and completely slurs. But he knows he’s gotten his point across. 

“I mean, you’re right,” Otabek says, and all of Yuri’s anger dissolves in a snap. Yuri blinks. 

“I am?”

“Yeah, I don’t really care what other people think of me,” Otabek says, a little smile playing on his lips as he looks at his hands. He looks back up at Yuri, though, and adds, “I’m sorry that I’ve annoyed you, though.”

Yuri stares at him for a second, dumbfounded. “Why are you apologizing? I just fucking yelled at you, and you’re apologizing to me?”

Otabek shrugs. “I dunno. I just feel bad. You seem like a nice guy.”

Yuri laughs again, before he realizes Otabek is serious. Of the many things Yuri has been called, nice is not among them. 

“I’m _nice?”_ he asks, the word foreign and icky in his mouth. Yuri grimaces at the taste of it. 

“I think so,” Otabek says. “You were nice to me when I moved here.”

Yuri is about to correct him, but thinks the better of it and takes a sip of Otabek’s drink instead of running his mouth. 

“I just think you care too much about what other people think of you, is all,” Otabek then adds, like he can sense Yuri’s disbelief. 

Yuri frowns. “What else am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can magically stop giving a shit about what people think.”

He pokes Otabek on the jacket, making that two pokes for tonight. “You think I got to be the coolest motherfucker in this school by not caring what other people thought about me?”

Otabek shrugs again. “Probably not. But I know you’re smart, funny, cute, and you could do whatever you wanted and still be really popular.”

Yuri opens and closes his mouth like a fish. Did he hear that right? Otabek thinks he’s cute? Of course, Yuri knows he’s cute— he’s downright _hot_ — so why does it matter what Otabek thinks?

Why does Otabek’s opinion matter anyway? Yuri came here to tell him off (he's pretty sure?) but now Otabek is giving him advice? Like, who does he think he is?

And why is Otabek looking at him like that, like he can see inside the depths of Yuri’s soul? What the fuck is that about?

Yuri opens his mouth to respond, but just then, Mila grabs his shoulders and startles Yuri so much he drops Otabek’s drink on the ground, wetting his converse. 

“Yuri, thank god I found you,” she says, looking between him and Otabek for a moment. “You gotta come inside. There’s a situation.”

And without warning, she pulls Yuri from the couch and back into the house, leaving Otabek Altin alone. 

—

The situation, it turns out, is nothing more than Victor getting caught in a _very_ compromising position with one Yuuri Katsuki. 

“I thought you weren’t going to have sex with him!” Yuri says, lying between Mila and Victor on his bed the next morning. The three of them spent the night at Yuri’s house, after practically dragging Victor home from JJ’s last night.

“It was an accident,” Victor says, stressing the word _accident_ . “I sucked his dick on _accident.”_

“How the fuck do you suck dick on accident?” Mila asks. She sounds as exasperated as Yuri feels. 

Victor clasps his hands behind his head, jabbing Yuri’s face with his elbows. “I don’t know! That’s just the thing. One moment, we were talking, and then he got handsy, and we started kissing, and…”

“You sucked his dick!” Yuri finishes for him. 

“On accident!”

“Vitya, you know I love you,” Mila says, laying a hand across Yuri to pat Victor’s chest. “But I don’t believe you.”

“Does that mean you’re bringing him to homecoming, then? You realize you’re fucking our plans,” Yuri says. If Victor brings Yuuri, then Mila will bring Sara, and Yuri will be fifth-wheeling hard. Yuri would rather skip homecoming altogether.

“Relax, my dear,” Victor pets his head paternally and Yuri tries to shake it off. “I haven’t asked him.”

“Good,” Yuri says.

“Does that mean I can bring Sara?” Mila asks.

“Mila!”

“Don’t worry, we can find you a date,” she says, and then turns on her side to face him. “Speaking of which, how was your night? I saw you were talking to _Otabek_.”

She sing-songs Otabek’s name, and Victor makes an “oooo” noise which makes Yuri’s head pound (maybe he’s a little hungover). Yuri covers his face with a pillow and groans. 

“He’s so frustrating!” Yuri complains, into the pillow. “And he like, doesn’t care about anything, but he does care about other stuff, but not the stuff that makes you cool. Like, lame shit.”

“But like, what even _is_ cool?” Mila asks. Yuri groans again, because it is _too early_ to have this conversation. He hasn’t even eaten.

“Us. We’re cool,” Yuri says. “But like, he just doesn’t care what anyone thinks. And he said I shouldn’t either.”

He and Otabek were having what could have been considered a “good” conversation last night, at least, up until the moment they were interrupted. But Yuri was drunk and Otabek was still not responding to _anything_ he did, so Yuri is almost thinking of just giving up. 

Yuri groans once more, for good measure, just to tell his friends how annoyed he is. Yuri Plisetsky is _not_ a quitter, but this boy may have bested him. God, what does that mean for Yuri’s status in school? Will this finally be the thing that knocks him off the podium?

“He’s just, so… God! He’s so annoying,” Yuri concludes. 

“Yeah,” Mila says slowly, and then her and Victor share a _look_. 

Yuri sits straight up. “Um, excuse me, what was _that_?”

“What was what?” she asks, and Yuri’s eyes roll out of his head. 

“Fuck off. That _look!”_ he says, and then crosses his arms, because he means business. 

“Well…” Victor starts, but then Mila shoots daggers at him, and he stops talking. 

Yuri pounces on Mila. “Someone better tell me what’s going on before I kick you out of my house.”

Mila scoffs, like she's willing to call Yuri’s bluff, but she answers him anyway. “Well, Yura,” she starts, and Yuri smacks her cause he hates that nickname— “Ow! Fine, my little _Yurachka,_ Victor and I have been talking, and well…”

She eyes Victor, obviously hoping he’ll step in, which he does. “We think you might have… _feelings_ for the Altin boy.”

Yuri scoffs at the idea. His _“_ feelings” towards Otabek couldn’t be _further_ from romantic. “You sound like my parents.”

Mila rolls her eyes, but Victor sits up and looks at Yuri pointedly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “And you sound like one of those kids who goes around pulling boys’ hair because you like them.”

Mila nods in agreement, and Yuri frowns. 

Was that what Yuri had been doing? He’d been taking people down for years, but his friends had never reacted like this. Did he go overboard? Yuri can't imagine how they would come to this conclusion if he wasn’t acting at least a tiny bit crazy (well, crazier than normal). 

But the main point still held— Yuri didn't even like Otabek as a person, let alone have romantic feelings for him. He wears a fucking leather jacket, for Christ’s sake. He rides a bike to school, and usually his socks don’t match. He seems to make friends with everyone in a simple, easy way that made you feel comfortable with him almost immediately. 

He is good at math, reading, and his haircut is always clean and kind of cool-looking, if the 80s were cool. And he never seems to care what anyone thought of him, which is the most infuriating thing about him. 

He had bested Yuri in all of his tactics, all because he moves through the world with a quiet confidence not many other people have. Honestly, Yuri kind of respects him for it. 

And, Yuri spends a lot of time thinking about Otabek, he has to admit. It’s like he can’t get the guy _out of his goddamn head._

He realizes that he’s been silent a while now, and Victor is still holding him by the shoulders.

Yuri’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit. Am I into Otabek?”

Victor bursts into a smile and opens his arms wide. “Bring it in, Yura. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”

—

The next day at lunch is a nightmare. 

Victor and Mila won’t stop pestering him, and after he skipped first period to walk around the halls, Otabek Altin is the last person he wants to see in the lunchroom.

But alas, there he is. Directly in Yuri’s line of sight like some hot, annoying stalker. Since when does Otabek sit at the table directly across the lunchroom from his?

It’s annoying. And no doubt Mila has heard about his skipping from Sara, and Yuri would bet good money she’s told Victor. Even after _confessing_ (Yuri still gags at the word) to his best friends, he still feels all the guilt and shame of an unrequited crush roiling in his stomach.

Not to be dramatic, but Yuri would literally rather be dead.

“Yura, are you going to eat your bread?” Victor asks. Yuri shoots him a look before _dramatically_ lying his head down on the lunch table in defeat.

“That can’t be good for your skin,” Mila chimes in, and Yuri groans. “Can you stop groaning? That’s all you’ve been doing for the past day.”

Yuri wants to groan at her again, but he’s not sure if that’ll make him win or her, so he just opts for flopping his head to the side to stare at Mila, hoping his gaze conveys all the misery in his heart.

“Oh come on. It’s not that bad,” she says. 

“You’re a bad friend. Validate my feelings, Milochka,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I already got a confirmed ‘No.’ It’s over. There’s no hope for me.”

“But that happened weeks ago!” Victor says. 

“I see you’ve already eaten my bread.”

“And beside, things change,” he finishes.

Without using his arms, Yuri fish-flops his head back over to face Mila and says, “See? Victor is being a good friend.”

But Mila isn’t listening to him, all of a sudden. Yuri’s about to snap in front of her face (and utilize his arms for the first time this lunch period) when he notices she’s looking at something. Victor has gone quiet, too.

Yuri lifts his poor, pathetic head to find Otabek Altin standing in front of their table.

And because Yuri really, really can’t help it, no matter how he feels for the guy, he still looks around the lunchroom to make sure Otabek hasn’t made a mistake, you know, walking up to _his_ table and all.

“Hey, Yuri,” Otabek says.

Nope. No mistake at all.

“Hi,” Yuri’s response is short, because he’s worried that if he keeps talking he will insult Otabek again.

“Can I ask you something?” Otabek is smiling a little, and his hands are uncharacteristically clasped behind his back (which must be insanely uncomfortable in his leather jacket, to be quite honest). Yuri straightens up a little, and suddenly feels self-conscious about the nondescript hoodie and sweats he picked out this morning.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he says, and glances at his friends, hoping they’ll take the hint and maybe, for the love of god, leave him alone.

But no, Mila and Victor are sitting there with shiny eyes like the annoying parental figures they are, looking back and forth between him and Otabek.

They sure aren’t going anywhere.

Otabek also seems to pick up on that, and so he clears his throat and turns his attention back to Yuri.

“I was just wondering, did you want to go to the homecoming game with me this weekend?” 

Yuri has to blink for a second, because his cognitive functions seem to not be working, and suddenly his face is all hot— since when does he _blush?_ Yuri can’t remember the last time his face fucking _flushed_ in _public_. 

Mila and Victor’s mouths drop open at the same time, but Otabek doesn’t seem to notice or care. He simply smiles expectantly at Yuri.

“Well, I’m riding with Victor and Mila,” Yuri says, cause he knows Otabek rides a bicycle and Yuri is most definitely not riding on the back of one like the protagonist in an A24 coming-of-age film set in the midwest. 

“That’s fine. I’ll see you at the game, then,” Otabek gives a little smile, a wave (what is _happening)_ , and then leaves the cafeteria, like 20 minutes before lunch is over. God only knows where he is going.

“Oh my god?” Mila squeals, her mouth open in dramatic disbelief. “We just like, manifested that.”

Victor looks at her with big eyes and nods his head in agreement.

And for once, Yuri can’t help but smile a little bit at his friends’ shenanigans, cause he has a date to the homecoming game.

The moment doesn’t last very long though, and Yuri grabs Victor’s arm.

“Oh my _god_ , what am I going to wear?”

—

To say that this is the slowest week of Yuri’s life would not be hyperbole in the least bit whatsoever.

The week doesn’t just take its sweet little time: it drags its dumb, timely feet as if fifty-pound cinderblocks are fucking chained to them. 

First period is like a waking nightmare for Yuri, but it also kind of feels like his dreams are coming true. Yuri tries not to make it _too_ obvious that he and Otabek are like, kind of maybe possibly _chilling_ , but every time Otabek wishes him a “Good morning” as he passes Yuri’s desk, Yuri wants to actually evaporate.

And he can’t focus in class either— every time he feels Otabek’s eyes on him from the back row, or, even worse, when he sits in the same row as him, Yuri’s thoughts _drift_ to him and the upcoming homecoming game. What will it be like to walk into the game with Otabek, sit next to him for an entire football game, and maybe even walk the track with him?

The possibilities are endless, and Yuri exhausts scenarios in his mind when he’s supposed to be leaning the unit circle.

Finally, Friday rolls around, and Yuri cannot be grateful enough. 

Over facetime, Victor helps him pick out an outfit and Mila picks him up at 7:00 on the dot. Yuri has been Facebook messaging Otabek (since they haven’t exchanged numbers, and Yuri isn't about to walk into a football game _blind_ ), and he sees Otabek just sent a message telling Yuri he’d arrived. Yuri silently taps his foot in his seat, leg shaking, trying to manifest Mila’s car to go faster.

Not that Yuri is _nervous,_ or anything.

When they finally arrive and park (far away, sadly, because they insist on being fashionably late), Yuri is bouncing out of his seat. He throws open the door and practically races to the ticket counter, where he actually buys a ticket because he knows his little scheme won’t work two weeks in a row.

Mila and Victor catch up while Yuri scans the trickle of incoming people, looking for Otabek. When he finally spots him, over by the bike racks, Yuri sends him a message.

Otabek’s phone lights up, and then he turns around and sees Yuri, and then his whole face lights up. It’s kind of cute, actually.

He jogs over to Yuri. 

“Hey,” Yuri says, trying to sound cool, even though he feels incredibly lame at this moment.

“Hi. Nice to see you,” Otabek says. 

And then they stand there for a moment, because neither of them know what to say next, but by the grace of god Mila interrupts their awkward staring by grabbing Yuri by the elbow and leading him up the steps to the game. 

Yuri turns around as he’s being dragged along, mouths _sorry_ , and then motions for Otabek to follow. Yuri’s happy when he does.

Eventually, Mila lets go of him to run over and hug some of her other senior friends, and Yuri walks into the Biellmann High School Homecoming football game with Otabek Altin at his side. 

Yuri knows people are staring at him, and he can already hear the questions in their minds. What is a guy like Yuri doing with someone like _him?_

No one really knows who Otabek is, but that doesn’t stop him from walking with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. And it must feel nice, Yuri thinks, to be either be so ignorant or so self-aware that you feel like you can belong anywhere, just because you don’t care about the opinions of others. Otabek Altin doesn’t care that he is taking Biellmann High School’s hottest freshman to a football game. He’s just taking Yuri.

They find seats with Mila and Victor this time, since they aren’t doing dumbass senior stuff this week. The game starts as soon as they sit down (or rather, stand, cause it’s the student’s section), trumpets blaring loudly in the marching band, overdressed cheerleaders excitedly waving their poms and trying to do call and response cheers that get lost in the excitement.

Yuri and Otabek don’t talk too much during the game, but Yuri’s keenly aware of his presence to his left the entire time. Every time their arms brush during a cheer, or when Otabek smiles at his excitement (football can be fun sometimes), Yuri feels a jolt in his heart. 

He wants Otabek to keep looking over at him with that half-smile forever, and yet, he wants to never see Otabek again for as long as he lives.

Yuri’s had crushes before, but god, never like this.

By the end of the third quarter, the game is shaping up to be a blowout, so a lot of students are exiting the stands to go walk around the track, or smoke under the bleachers, or fuck in cars (Mila reluctantly hands Victor her keys after he promises to pay for three full gas tanks). Then Sara finds them, and she and Mila start chatting, so it’s only Yuri and Otabek and no other distractions.

“Do you want to walk?” Otabek asks, and Yuri’s brain short circuits.

He must know what this means, right? To ask someone to walk the track, that’s more official than asking them out on a date.

Yuri takes a shallow breath and says, “Yeah, sure.” 

They stand up wordlessly and start to make their way down the track. It’s set up so that you can really only walk three-quarters of the track, starting on one stretch, rounding the corner, and then walking the other straight in front of the opposing team’s stands. 

Yuri can feel eyes on them _again_ as they circle the track, and he can already feel his phone’s phantom vibrations from all of the subtweets he is getting at that very moment.

They walk in silence around half of the track and by the time they get to the opposite side, Yuri is about to combust.

“So, can I admit something?” Otabek asks, finally, blessedly breaking the tenuous silence. 

“Go ahead.”

“I actually have no idea how to play football.”

Yuri laughs at the unexpectedness of it all. “I mean, I don’t either,” he says.

“But I mean like, I don’t understand the rules. Like, for instance, what is a “chain,” and why do we move it on “downs”?” he asks, and Yuri giggles.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Otabek does a little pout, but he’s being playful. Yuri takes a chance and touches his arm, gently but quickly.

“I’m not. I’m laughing _with_ you,” he says, which to be honest, is a line. But by the way Otabek is smiling back at him, Yuri knows it’s working.

Conversation is easy from there— Otabek wants to know more about Yuri: where his family is from, what his favorite subject is (Yuri’s good at all of them), what he does for fun. In turn, Yuri asks about Otabek’s hometown, and how he ended up in the middle of nowhere USA from Eastern Europe.

“At first, it was the refugee program, but my dad found a job, and now my mom works with the town’s refugee resettlement,” Otabek tells him.

“Cool.”

The conversation lulls a little, right when they’re passing their seats for the third time. Yuri is about to suggest they go back, but then Otabek stops walking.

“Wanna head back?” Yuri asks.

“Actually, if it’s okay, I want to ask you something,” Otabek says.

Yuri fights the urge to roll his eyes. “You know you can just ask me things, right? You don’t have to have this massive, like, prologue each time.”

“I know,” Otabek says, and then, “Okay, so will you go to the homecoming dance with me?”

Maybe Yuri shouldn’t have told Otabek that preambles are useless, because even with the warning Yuri is still floored by the question.

It would be great to have a date to homecoming, especially since all of his friends are going with people, but until now, Yuri could almost pretend that Otabek wasn’t _really_ into him, and that this whole “football game” date was just a friendly thing, cause Otabek didn’t quite understand the nuances of small-town American conventions. But now, Otabek wants to take Yuri to homecoming?

This whole, “thinking he hates Otabek when it’s actually a thinly veiled defense mechanism for his annoying yet obvious crush” thing is pretty confusing for Yuri, but honestly? It’s not so hard to say yes to Otabek Altin.

“Yeah, I’d like to,” Yuri says, but then he frowns. “Oh, wait. I didn’t buy a ticket.”

Not that that has ever stopped him before, but it’s his first high school dance…

“I actually have an extra ticket,” Otabek says, and Yuri laughs in spite of himself.

“Were you planning on asking me?”

“Yeah, actually,” he says. “For a while, but I was nervous.”

“You were nervous?” Yuri asks, and he thinks he gets it, but then he remembers Otabek doesn’t really care about Yuri’s status. So what was there to be nervous about?

“Well, I mean, I kind of rejected your offer at the beginning of the year,” Otabek says, and if that doesn’t sting. Yuri grimaces at the memory.

“And,” Otabek continues, “You’ve just been so kind and welcoming ever since I got here. Going out of your way to talk to the new kid, even though you’re pretty cool and popular. It helped me out a lot.”

Yuri wants to correct him, but he’s also getting somewhere with Otabek Altin, so maybe this isn't the best moment. Also, it’s the second time Otabek has called him kind, and maybe it’s getting to Yuri just a little bit.

Otabek scratches the back of his neck. “So, I know it’s short notice, but are you coming to homecoming or not?”

“Bold of you to assume I have something to wear,” Yuri says, because even when he’s been gotten, he still plays hard to get.

“You’ll look great in anything you wear, I bet,” Otabek says.

Yuri’s face flushes crimson. Looks like he has been bested once again.

A few moments later, Mila and Victor come rushing over, telling him it’s almost past Victor’s curfew and they need to leave soon (the game had ended while Yuri wasn’t paying attention, apparently). 

Otabek gives Yuri an awkward hug goodbye, which Mila snickers at (the witch), and promises to message Yuri his number.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven!” Otabek calls after them as they walk away.

Great, Yuri thinks, rolling his eyes. He’s going to have to ride on the _bike._

—

Otabek Altin arrives on Yuri’s doorstep wearing a full tuxedo and a bicycle helmet tucked under his arm. 

Yuri does not, in fact, have the mental energy to correct him on his numerous fashion faux-pas, or even the fact that no one dresses _that_ nicely for the homecoming dance, because he is already nervous about going to homecoming with this boy, so he doesn’t say anything. 

He just invites him in with an awkward smile and introduces him to the rest of his crew for pictures. 

Mila is bringing Sara, and they are both wearing floor-length satin dresses, those ones that look more like slips than actual dresses. Usually, the longer dresses are reserved for prom, but since Mila and Sara are wearing them, the winter dance is sure to be packed with girls in gowns when it comes around. 

Victor, unsurprisingly, is bringing Yuuri, who is wearing a little floral button-down tucked into some slacks, looking like a baby gay. Victor, on the other hand, is wearing a grey suit jacket and looks like he is going to a business conference, not a high school dance. 

The four of them are already snapping selfies when Yuri brings in Otabek, and to their credit, they barely blink an eye at Otabek’s appearance. They just usher the boys over for more pictures, lining up in pairs on Yuri’s staircase like some cliche high school prom movie. Yuri kind of hates it, but he also knows he’ll be posting one of them on Instagram later, so he shows his good side. 

He takes a few selfies with Otabek in the downtime between pictures, and those turn out to be his favorite. Otabek has a soft smile whereas Yuri is all eyes and teeth, throwing hand signs like he’s in a gang. Yuri even convinces Otabek to do a peace sign in one of the pictures, and Yuri posts it on his Instagram story. 

The pictures do a lot to ease Yuri’s nerves. It’s his first high school dance, and usually, Yuri would have been planning this moment for months in advance. But Otabek Altin appeared in his life and turned all of his plans sideways, and so Yuri has no idea what to expect from the dance because he’s been too busy _thinking about Otabek._

Yuri’s whipped. There’s no doubt about it. He and Otabek spent the night before texting until 3am, when Yuri literally fell asleep on his phone. His grandpa commented on how happy he looked the next morning over breakfast, which made Yuri immediately sour. But even though the feeling of like, being perceived made Yuri feel uncomfortable, he had to admit it was nice to have a crush on someone and have him like you back. 

Even if Otabek Altin is the opposite of everything Yuri stands for. 

“What are you thinking about?” Otabek asks him, and Yuri realizes he’s been staring into space while Victor and Yuuri take their gross couple photos. 

“Nothing,” Yuri says. 

Otabek squints. “You have on your thinking face.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Yuri asks, a little more aggressively than he intends. 

Otabek shrugs. “Dunno. It’s just the face you make when you’re thinking.”

Now _that_ makes Yuri blush, cause that means Otabek has been watching him long enough to know Yuri’s expressions, and consequently, his “thinking face.”

“Stalker,” Yuri mutters, but it holds none of the bite of before. 

“Guys! Limo is here!” Mila squeals, and hurries the group out of the door. (Thank god they’re carpooling to the dance, so that Yuri doesn’t have to ride on the _bike_.)

“But what about my bike?” Otabek asks as they walk outside. 

“You can leave it here. We’ll get it after the dance,” Yuri says. Then, he grabs Otabek’s hand and pulls him into the limo. 

Yes, renting a limo for homecoming is a bit pretentious, but Victor’s parents have money and aren’t afraid to spend it. The group rolls up to the Olive Garden for dinner, and because it’s the only semi-nice and affordable restaurant in the area that will look the other way if a kid’s fake ID is a little flimsy, everyone from Biellmann High is there. 

Dinner is fine, but Yuri gets antsy from the stares of his classmates boring into this back. The whole school knows about Mila and Sara as well as Victor and Yuuri (it's been on twitter since the first day of classes), but Yuri and Otabek are a new item and it seems like every conversation is about the two of them. It makes Yuri a little jumpy, and he snaps at Otabek once when he can’t figure out the extensive menu. 

“I just don’t understand this whole ‘Buy One, Take One’ situation. Am I buying two meals?”

Yuri rolls his eyes, but then Sara kindly explains it to him while Mila shoots him a look and a text. 

Mila sighs audibly, loud enough to make Yuri worry for a moment that she’s going to say _something_ , but she just smiles at Otabek. 

“So, Otabek, what’s it like living in America? Do you like it?”

And with that quick pivot, the conversation smooths out. Yuri has never been more grateful for Mila, and he’s quick to turn his attention to what Otabek is saying. He talks about what life was like in Kazakhstan and how he’s almost gotten hit by cars a few times for biking on the wrong side of the ride. 

He even teaches the group a few phrases in Kazakh, which feel kind of funny in Yuri’s mouth, until Otabek reveals that he’s actually taught them curse words, and the whole table is shocked for a second before they all burst out laughing. 

Yuri hangs on to his every word, and when Otabek sees Yuri watching, he smiles. 

After dinner, the limo picks them up again and they ride over to the dance, which takes place in their lovely high school gymnasium. 

Yuri doesn’t even flinch when Otabek puts a hand on his back and leads him into the doors, decorated with balloons and sparkly crepe paper. 

Well, maybe he flinches a little. The weirdness from earlier at dinner is not totally gone, and Yuri’s not sure if his nerves stem from walking into the homecoming dance with Otabek, or the fact that he has a crush on him. God, when did he become so awkward?

Yuri is _good_ around people. He just needs to relax, is all. Maybe take a note from Otabek’s playbook and not care what other people think.

That part may be hard, considering that Yuri is definitely not making up the stares and whispers that follow him and his group as they walk over to the tables lining the dance floor. Yuri glares at as many people he can, but then he sneaks a glance at Otabek— and he’s… smiling?

He looks proud, Yuri realizes. Or maybe he’s just happy. Happy to be here with _him_. And that makes Yuri forget, momentarily, about everything else in the world. 

He grabs Otabek’s arm. “Wanna dance?”

Victor, Mila, Yuuri, and Sara follow and they all make a circle in the middle of the dance floor. Other students stand on the edge, trying to maybe dance with the popular kids, but for the most part, they don’t bother Yuri like they usually would, or even make him feel superior. He’s just having fun. 

Otabek takes his hands and swings him around in some hybrid swing dance ballroom turn, and Yuri kind of stumbles through it but Mila is clapping and it makes Yuri laugh a little. Otabek continues to lead him in terrible partner dance moves, even dipping him once, their noses close enough to touch, before swinging him back up into another spin. 

Otabek isn’t a good dancer, but he sure is sure of himself, and he makes Yuri happy, really. Yuri’s reluctant to do the line dances that come on (the Cupid Shuffle, in 2016? Really?) but seeing Otabek having the time of his life actually kind of makes him want to join in. He hops in line for the Wobble, which is objectively the worst dance ever, but the look on Otabek’s face is more than worth it. 

As the night goes on, Yuri even loses sight of Mila and Victor and their dates, and at some point, Sara comes up to him and offers him a drink of something she’s been carrying around in her clutch. Yuri refuses; for the first time, he doesn’t want to be drunk. He wants to remember this night and Otabek’s dumb half smile and his terrible dance moves and the way it feels to be held by him. 

And then a slow song comes on, (Ed Sheeran, but it’s still a slow song) and Otabek places his hands on Yuri’s waist tentatively. He seems a little unsure, so Yuri smiles at him and drapes his arms over Otabek’s shoulders. 

They sway softly to the rhythm. 

Yuri can’t look at Otabek’s (gorgeous, dark) eyes the whole time, so he glances around to the other couples on the dance floor. To his surprise, no one is watching him and Otabek— they’re all caught up in their partners, laying heads on shoulders, or even full on making out. It’s kind of peaceful, actually, to have no one looking at him. 

When the song ends, Yuri stands on his toes and whispers into Otabek’s ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

Otabek nods happily and follows him out of the gym and into the cool night air. 

— 

Since Victor’s family has rented the limo for the night, their first stop is a fast food restaurant with bible verses on the milkshake cups and the cheapest fries in town. It’s also the only thing in their tiny town that stays open past 11pm, and while it’s not quite that late, there’s nowhere else that has that 3am drunk food feel that Yuri craves. He’s not drunk on alcohol, but there is something intoxicating about Otabek Altin.

Yuri orders them fries and the restaurant’s super thick milkshakes that have to be eaten with a spoon, and he shows Otabek the magic of dipping fries into ice cream.

His eyes _literally_ light up when he tries it, the floppy fry dripping extra milkshake onto the table. Whatever. It was sticky to begin with. 

“It’s salty… and sweet?” Otabek sounds delighted. Yuri is pleased. 

They take the rest of their milkshakes to go and drive to the WalMart next, because that’s the other place dumb teenagers like to hang out after hours. And their WalMart is open 24 hours.

They look absolutely ridiculous, Otabek in his literal tux and Yuri in his black and white-striped blazer and church shoes, but they run around the aisles anyway, absolutely annoying the late-night staff.

They shoot each other with the Nerf guns that some kids already took out of the box, and playing DIY laser tags between the aisles and playing a game Yuri invented called “What’s the worst dildo,” where he and Otabek pick a section of the store and they have 30 seconds to find the worst thing to use as a dildo. 

Otabek wins when he manages to drag over a small couch from Housewares, which they end up just leaving in groceries.

After catching his breath from laughing harder than he has in a while, Yuri asks, “Do you wanna take a walk?” 

Otabek extends his hand. “I’ll do you one better,” he says.

They take the limo back to Yuri’s house. Otabek retrieves his bike from Yuri’s porch and mounts it, pausing for Yuri to sit just above the back wheel. He wraps his arms around Otabek’s torso. It feels a lot like a stupid, cheesy coming of age movie as the wind blows through his hair and kisses his face, but Yuri doesn’t mind anymore. Maybe he should go rewatch those movies. Maybe there was something there.

Otabek pedals around the neighborhood, but they don’t talk. Yuri rests his head on Otabek’s back and they just ride.

—

It’s nearing midnight when Otabek drops Yuri off at his house again, looking a little windswept but no less dazzling. Yuri hops off the bike ungracefully, and Otabek lets it fall onto Yuri’s front lawn so he can walk them to the front door.

They stand on Yuri’s doorstep, looking at each other.

“So,” Yuri says.

“So,” Otabek replies. 

“I had fun tonight,” Yuri starts. He really did have a good time: at the dance, causing chaos at WalMart, eating shitty fried food, and everything in between.

“Me too,” Otabek says. He smiles again, and then they lapse into another silence.

God, what do people usually do during awkward silences? Do they hug? Say goodbye? Do they kiss?

Yuri really wants to kiss him.

But he’s so nervous, it’s like his skin is on fire and he will explode if either of them move. Maybe that’s dramatic, but it’s how he _feels._

Man, Yuri wants to kiss him. He should have paid attention during the terrible movies. Then maybe he’d know what to do, instead of just standing here like an idiot. 

How long has it been since either of them talked?

And Otabek is just _looking_ at him, like he’s got something to say. Yuri wishes he would just come out and _say it_ —

Otabek Altin leans forward and fucking kisses him.

It’s really, really gentle, like Otabek is afraid to break him. His lips are pretty soft, but Yuri’s short-circuiting and all he can focus on is remembering to close his eyes and tilt his head a little and— his lips taste like mint, when did he put on chapstick?

And all too suddenly, Otabek pulls away.

Yuri’s eyes go wide in the aftermath, and Otabek kind of smiles and bites his lip a little bit. _Cheeky bastard._

“Goodnight, then,” he says.

Yuri is almost too stunned to reply, but he stutters out something like “Um, goodnight.”

Otabek picks up his bike from the lawn. “See you on Monday, Yuri,” he says with a wave, and then kicks off his bike to pedal away. 

Yuri watches him disappear down the street, fading into the darkness beyond the streetlights. He’s biting back a smile the whole time, and it finally envelops his whole face. 

When Yuri can’t see him anymore, he goes inside shutting the door quietly so he doesn’t wake his grandpa. Then, he leans against the wooden door, sliding down it until he’s sitting, his head in his hands, because he _can’t stop smiling._

_Fucking Otabek Altin._

Yuri whips out his phone to text his group chat, but he realizes they’re probably also making out with their respective partners. And then he’s like, oh my god, is Otabek Altin his boyfriend now?

God, that’s a whole other google doc. Yuri should start planning.

**Author's Note:**

> This grew from a small idea on twitter into this 15k nonsense (which many of my stories seem to do), but I had so much fun writing this and alluding to all of the stupid high school shenanigans I'd been a part of. Thank you to [Molly](https://twitter.com/chewiedot) for the beautiful art and the beta reading, and thank you to [Pep](https://twitter.com/PeppiestBismilk) for all of the beta, as well as catching every single lay/lie discrepancy in the text. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! You can find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/phichithamsters). Come talk to me about mean girl yura!


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